Daywalkers
by Miss AbbyM
Summary: "He was the prince after all, he and his pack the last of the pure bloods, they're brethren having been extinguished and ruthlessly eradicated by ignorant humans." - B/V, G/CC, K/18


**A/N: Hi everyone! Yes…it is another story, sorry! Blame it on an overactive imagination. I hope everyone likes this too, I think it's gonna be a bit longer than my three other stories, but we'll see. I was suddenly struck with this and I just had to see where this led me…and it led me to this! My other stories, The Kiss, CSI: Satan City and Oh Bulma! It Was Just A Dream! will still be updated and worked upon, I like what I have going on in those so far, so don't fret, they've not been abandoned. :) But please let me know if you like this too, I don't want to waste anyone's time if a story is not going to be interesting to people. Thanks again for stopping by, please r/r and let me know if this is a dud or one to continue. :)**

**Ch.1 – Change Is In The Air**

The moonlight dappled a soft glow upon the immensely powerful creatures swiftly racing along the earth, the waxing and waning of the bright full moon highlighting each hair on their fur, a lighter, shimmery color that deepened and darkened as it delved closer to the skin. The four sped along, growling and nipping at each other's heels or hindquarters, racing along the path of the mountain, precariously close to the edge, the steep breadth of the mountain on the left and a dizzying death on the right, the ledge falling off into the calm dark waters below. The path was a mere sliver of dirt that jutted out from the mountain, jagged rocks jutting out from below, waiting for some foolish creature to slip and fall from the mountain to be skewered along their craggy faces.

The path was becoming narrower up ahead as it began to spiral down the face of the mountain, to flatten out into the lush, quiet valley below. What once was a small ledge for four powerful beasts to fly down upon was rapidly becoming a knife's edge, causing them to crowd closer and closer together. They jostled and jockeyed for position, fighting to be first, snarling and snapping at each other, painful yelps and howls reverberating along the face of the cliff, echoing for miles around in the calm, moonlit wild.

But in the end, the jostling shook out, and the natural order of things took hold. A light brown, closely shorn furred wolf ended up bringing the rear. In terms of physical size, he was the smallest of the four, he may not have been as physically imposing as the other three, but he was stockily built, compact, muscle almost making up ninety-five percent of his body. He huffed and shook his head, the fur sticking up on his stout neck, allowing a cool breeze to touch upon his skin as he raced down along the mountain after his pack. No matter how hard he tried, for one reason or another, he always ended up last, and that saddened him a bit, although if he'd opened his honey-colored eyes, he'd realize that his three other comrades were and had always been, abnormally more powerful ever since they were little. Genetics may have dealt him a smaller frame, but it did not diminish his power and strength.

He looked back at the smallest of the pack, once again, bringing up the rear. Out of the four, the dark brown wolf was the oldest, though his strength and ferocity never diminished. The most skilled tactician, he often was called upon on how to best tackle a huge prey or coordinate an attack when battle was necessary. He grinned at the young wolf behind him, facetiously slowing down just a bit, taunting him, speeding away at the last minute before his heels or rump were nipped by the angry wolf behind him. The air flattened against his body as he raced down the mountains, just like the young wolf behind him, in pursuit of the wolves in front of him, the thrill of the danger of falling off the cliff stirring the blood pounding in his veins, his lips curled, gleamingly dangerously sharp canines in the moonlight. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pair of large eyes eyeing the four as they made their way down, never blinking, distantly curious. His body blended seamlessly against the dark foliage of the tree, the bark a perfect match to his mottled feathers, so that only a pair of eyes peered at the four. The branch that hung precariously over the cliff some distance away from them bowed low, the weight of the large owl causing it to groan and bend in protest. Eventually, he grew bored and finally blinked, his large golden orbs disappearing for a second, the feathers creating a slight whoosh sound as he fluffed his body, enjoying the peaceful air that blanketed the night.

The large wolf snorted and refocused on the other two that were in front of him, pouring more of his energy into his muscles, willing them to push him to the front, although just like the young one behind him, he knew deep down it was a futile effort. The grey and the black were vastly powerful, nothing living coming closer to the power that both held. But unlike the wolf behind him, he didn't feel inadequate, knowing that he himself was extraordinarily powerful, and what he lacked in physical strength, he learned to exploit his other talents that had nothing to do with physicality but with battle brilliance and tactility. He looked back again and grinned, he was unusually mischievous tonight, his normally silent, emotionless self giving way to a more relaxed and lighthearted part of personality, something that he rarely showed. He waved his tail at the wolf behind him, the pointed furry tip barely touching the other's nostrils, but enough to cause the young wolf to sneeze as the tip tickled his nose, growling and snapping at the tail as it waved tauntingly in front of him, his powerful jaws catching only air as it eluded him. The older wolf broke into a wider grin, a deep rumbling escaping from deep within his powerful chest, causing the other two in front to look back as they neared the valley below, the jagged rocks growing larger and larger as they rose from the deep blue watery abyss.

The grey's blue eyes twinkled in the moonlight, his lips also curling back, grinning at the antics of the one behind them. He was a heavily muscled large grey, but sleek, not at all brutish or bulky looking, his fur seesawing between a light silvery color to a dark granite, depending on where the moon hit his body. Immensely powerful, of the four, he was the strongest, although the one in front rivaled the grey's power and strength. The muscles visibly contracted under the light of the moon, the fur flattening and disappearing into recesses and valleys of his body, displaying the power that every inch of his body held. Of the four, he was the youngest, although in all actuality, the one in front and the light brown bringing up the rear not that much older than him. He was also the most happy-go-lucky of the four, the most playful and lively, finding beauty and light in all that surrounded him, contrasting deeply with how he was when in battle. It's as if he was a two-sided coin, capable of killing an enemy with one twitch of his muscle, the cunning he displays when he has to, yet never choosing to do so, resorting to that as the only option at the very end. The only time he'd used that power was when he transformed, after one of his pack, the young brown, was brutally killed before his eyes, his pain snapping his sanity. The rage that flowed beneath the surface exploded, a power greater than any of them had ever witnessed released from the most unlikely source. He shook out his fur as he raced behind the leader, his body looking like a puffed out hairball racing down the mountain, his tail lazily trailing out behind him.

He was speeding down at full speed, veering from side to side, even as their positions had been set, still trying to be at the front. Of course the one in front would never willingly allow that to happen, the thrill of a healthy rivalry flowing in the veins of the two most powerful creatures in the universe, a healthy respect for the power that each held. Veering from side to side as well, he blocked the grey from overtaking him, the younger of the two baring his fangs slightly behind him, irritated that he would not overtake the black in front. A bristled tail flicked out and clipped him the on the side of his muzzle, the grey's fangs glistening fully as it was fully revealed, a deep snarl echoing out. But emerald eyes only looked back at him, tauntingly facetious, another flick of his tail clipping the other side of the grey's muzzle. A full on growl left him, his blue eyes changing into a dark blue, his anger rising, causing the other two behind to slightly slow down, not wanting to be caught in the middle should an argument occur. They both looked at each other and sighed, it was always this way. The grey mercilessly taunted and teased by the one in front, though to his credit, the large grey never really minded, his lighthearted soul never really being fazed by the antics of their prince.

He only snarled back, gracing him only with a sideways look, comforted in the fact that there were some things he was better at than the grey behind him. Equally as powerful, the black wolf was smaller in stature compared to the grey and the dark brown, but just like the other three, his power was vastly greater than his physical makeup. He was the prince after all he and his pack the last of the pure bloods, their brethren having been hunted and ruthlessly eradicated by ignorant humans. They used to inhabit all over the earth, having been in existence long before humans expanded, but as with human frailties and fears, they had been hunted, just the mere sight of them instilling fear unchecked and unfounded. They'd never attacked their distant genetics cousins, no matter how grievous the humans' actions were to them, yet their immense power and supernatural transformations encompassed the humans in fear, imaginations of brutality and savagery creating the fear and paranoia. His green eyes glowed in fury, the hairs of his fur visibly bristling out, his ears flattening against his skull as he led the pack down, the road widening slowly as the valley floor came closer to greeting them. An angry growl emanated from him, reliving all of the abuse his kind had suffered, the killing of his family, friends…his people. The others behind him snarled and barked back at him, the power of their leader having grown and crackled dangerously around them, an unearthly greenish glow pulsing from their prince's body. They knew what was going on, the dark broodings of their prince not unfamiliar to them. Out of all of them, the prince's loss was by far the most heartbreaking, his entire blood line rounded up in the dead of night, the prince used as bait, his young self too little to do anything but helplessly watch, as the king and queen, his parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles were slaughtered one by one, the torture and their murder haunting him nightly. His mother's death, as she was faced to look directly into her young son's anguished face, caused the little prince's sanity to break pitifully, his cry of loss and sorrow coming from deep within his soul. In an instant, he was the first to become the legendary that his father had so often spoken of, but at the age of a young toddler, the feat was doubly amazing and incredible. But the shock and despair at witnessing his family's murder shocked him into a paralyzing despair, and if it hadn't been for the surprise attack by the others behind him, he would have been killed as well, his pain crippling him, catatonic in the grasp of the humans that murdered his family in front of him, only the brave actions of those behind him, little ones themselves at the time, causing enough of a commotion to release the little prince. They'd fled, as far as their little bodies could take them, only subsisting on what they could find or kill along the way. They'd run to the edge of the world, their home now the lush valley and mountainous areas along the vast ocean, completely wild and untamed, only the indigenous people that lived there the only other intelligent beings around them.

Yet they did not attack or kill the humans, and neither did the humans. The natives had been afraid when they first encountered the four, the warriors of the tribe bravely facing them, though their defensive stances and quivering knees a dead giveaway to the fear they felt. The four had menacingly faced the warriors, the line had been drawn, though young as they were, no older than toddlers really, there's something to be feared when razor sharp fangs and sharp taloned paws threatened to slash and shred into soft human flesh. Out of the four, it was the little prince that had stepped forward, though he was still in his wolf form, he exuded an air of regalness about him, directly challenging the lead warrior, his green eyes blazing dangerously, his hackles causing his fur to stand on end, his little tail whipping rigidly behind him, telling the warrior that if they were attacked, the warriors would feel their wrath.

The elders of the village had been watching atop the mountain they had sped down from. As they neared their village and the four wolves, they silently motioned for the warriors to back away. The four didn't back down, most definitely not the brave little prince, as the elders assumed the positions that the warriors previously stood upon.

In a move that stunned both the warriors and the wolves, the elders slowly dropped to their knees and bowed, the chief stepping out of them, removing his beautifully adorned headdress and laying it on the ground next to him.

"We mean you no harm, please, let us both co-exist peacefully. We have no wish to harm you, only to live on the lands of our forefathers." The chief was an older man, large, almost twice the size of every other man in the village, but as gentle as he was huge. His kind eyes belied the terror he felt, but he knew if a battle was to occur, though young as these wolves were, they would easily destroy the village. The pain of his wife's death was horrible enough to bear, the death of his young daughter and his village destroyed would be something that he could not bear whether in life or death. As with the elders, he'd noticed that these wolves…were not ordinary or like any that surrounded the land. There was something, something more and to underestimate them as mindless creatures would be a death sentence for the chief's village.

The pup stared into the face of the chief, the honesty in his words hiding no malice or deceit. He turned to his pack, silently telling them to back down, much to their chagrin, growling and snarling at him, protesting. After what they'd all gone through at the hands of humans, they were baffled as to why their prince would believe this human. The fur on his ruff stood out on end again, his anger rising as he turned to fully face them, roaring out is displeasure at their protest and obstinance. The little grey was the first to yield, stepping forward as he bowed and lightly nipped at his prince's paw, a sign of deference to his blood. The others followed, reluctantly, but obeyed just the same. With a silent look, they retreated into the mountains, the little black wolf pup levelly staring into the kind and grateful eyes of the chief, who bowed solemnly as well and gave a silent nod of thanks. The pup merely snorted, to everyone's amazement, giving the chief a quick nod before he retreated into the mountain after his pack, his exit slow, measured, deliberate, head held high, exuding the royalty his blood demanded.

The dangerously thin path opened onto soft, lush grass, the valley before them sleeping peacefully, blanketed under millions of twinkling stars and the beautiful full moon. A few pillowy clouds lazily floated by, the gentle winds nudging them to carry on their way across the heavens. The four came to a halt just beyond the village, as they surveyed the tribe before them. Not a large tribe, peaceful, many times, often interacting with the pack, day or night. Sometimes, the women and children had been near the surrounding woods, picking fruits, nuts, gathering while the men hunted for the tribe. Often times, the members of the tribe were accompanied on their hunts, cooperating to help bring down large game or especially difficult ones. But the pack also silently protected the women and children, sometimes, the young precocious children wandering off, away from the safety of the women, to which a panic would ensue, until that child would suddenly reappear, usually dangling happily from the powerful jaws of one of the wolves, lightly being held along the soft nape of the child. The wolves usually came back either soaking wet or with scrapes, bruises or cuts, considering the trouble the children had gotten into, all the while enduring the curious pokes, prods, kicks or grabs of sensitive nostrils and ears, the children giggling all the while as they were gently handed back to their grateful and relieved mothers.

A mutual trust and respect had been established, the villagers often welcoming the pack in, should they decide to do so. There were a lot of hushed whispers and discussions that circulated among the villagers about the pack, other than their seeming ability to understand human speech, there was something else, something more that only the chief and the elders knew. A visit into the village usually meant only one thing; the pack was going to be speaking to the chief and elders.

A loud, angry rumble was heard just behind the prince, and he whipped about, surprised, turning to face the one that it came from and the reason for it. He only saw sheepish blue eyes looking back at him, the stomach of the young warrior complaining mightily. The other two snickered behind them, and the prince sighed and scowled heavily, the four of them already on edge, having this idiot's stomach complaining was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

He clipped the grey, causing a yelp to escape as his sensitive ear was bitten, the quiet calm broken, a few sleeping birds and creatures protesting at having been disturbed. He scowled again at his pack for a moment longer, before he was satisfied and then proceeded into the village. This would be a disturbing visit, one that will definitely require the protection of the pack. The change was in the air…and in a short time, it would be threatening their land that they had come to call home. After losing all that he held dear and his ancestral home, he was not about to let that happen again.


End file.
